Ossuary
by Selene Sokal
Summary: Being trapped in a monstrous castle in an unearthly realm is not what Emerald saw her service with Cinder leading to, no more than meeting the inhuman Queen who ruled it. But that's where she is, and now Emerald must learn the truth of what Salem's whole crusade is built on.


**Story idea from brave kid. Thanks for pitching it to me!**

She was more alone now than she'd ever felt before in her life.

Even as an orphan, stealing what she could to get by on the streets of a pitiless city, she was, at least, in the vicinity of human beings. And while her world may have been cruel, there were still some limits of what humans would do to each other. Even the most depraved men she knew, the ones the voices of the street warned about, all had a line _somewhere_ that they didn't cross. Here, though, in this nightmarish castle built in a blasted wasteland, there was no humanity, in form or behavior. Even the smallest step outside the lines and she was liable to get eaten… or worse.

There were no more intercessors now. No more Cinder, not only the one person she trusted in the world, but her shield from the rest of this merry band of murderers and psychopaths. But there was no more Mercury, either, sent to… she wasn't sure where. He wasn't here, which was all that mattered. Not even Hazel, protective, albeit distant, was anywhere to be seen. She was alone, fundamentally and utterly, with only the rare inhuman monstrosity floating down the corridors, carrying out whatever inscrutable tasks their Mistress had for them.

She was the worst of it, really. The real monster, the Queen of the Grimm, Cinder's Mistress, the secret mastermind of everything they had done, was also here. She had the form of a woman, but something in Emerald's soul, some ancestral instinct of self-preservation, told her that she wasn't human. The impossibly pale skin, the ugly black veins, those _eyes..._ Emerald feared her more than she knew she was capable of fearing, and it was only her unshakeable loyalty to Cinder that kept her here. Well, that, and her equally unshakeable certainty that even the slightest hint of lacking commitment to the cause would end in a shallow grave.

If she'd even get a grave...

Right now, she was following one of those… things that seemed to float around the castle, carrying out their Queen's inscrutable will. It wanted her to follow, so she did.

Led to the throne room, all Emerald could do was stand, silent and still, as the Queen seemed to scan her with her eyes. Did she truly see through those eyes? Were they actual sensory organs, the kind Emerald had? Or did she see through a hundred thousand, a hundred _million_ Grimm eyes across the world? Emerald did not like to speculate on what Salem was, but she had long learned not to assume she had limits. She took as a given, in case she had any stupid ideas, that any attempt to use her Semblance on the Queen would be another strategy of suicide.

"Come with me." The silence finally broke. Every instinct said _don't_, but she knew that disobeying the Queen of the Grimm… well, either way, she was probably a dead woman, but doing what she was told would let her live for even a little while longer.

She followed her down a winding set of stone stairs that seemed to go further and further down than she even imagined the castle to be tall. Either they were going very deep underground, or the castle, built by ancient and terrible magic as it was, could distort her sense of place. It certainly felt like some rooms didn't connect in a natural way.

It was cold when she finally reached the foot of the stairs, and it took all of Emerald's concentration to keep her teeth from chattering. If she even started shaking for a moment, for any reason, she was certain it'd lead to a full collapse as she shook herself apart. She took a deep breath as Salem pushed an old and antique key into the lock, turned it, and opened the door, and then ushered her in.

The room was dark, not just for poor lighting, but as though some kind of floating Grimm matter suffused the air and hung, heavy, over the room. She felt ill, feeling as though this supernatural gloom could taint her body and find its way to settle inside her if she spent too long here. Suddenly, she heard a _slam_ and snapped around, to see the door had shut behind her. Great. It wasn't like she could have run away in the first place, but once the door was shut, it felt like even that last sliver of hope had been extinguished.

Every step felt like it echoed in the enclosed space, which didn't sit well with her. She considered herself a master thief, someone who stepped with a light touch, but when her footsteps were the _only_ sound other than the thudding rhythm of her heartbeat, it consumed her attention. And worse, it made her acutely aware that the Grimm Queen's footsteps _didn't _seem to make a sound.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that the pathway was flanked by rows and rows of small stone tablets, built into the wall. They passed hundreds, no, thousands of them, like a tiny army, lined up in formation. And then she realized—they all had names. On each stone, a single name was carved.

Donovan Reed, Dylan Dervish, Archimedes Arslan, Pyrrha Nikos, Mercedes-

_Pyrrha Nikos?_

She was sure she had seen it; though she didn't dare turn back, stop, or even slow down to check. Were these… gravestones? The names of Salem's greatest enemies? Deaths she was particularly proud of? They must have walked past thousands of-

And all of a sudden, the hallway opened up into a great chamber, a chamber filled with shelves and towers covered from top to bottom with… an uncountable multitude of those tablets. Had… had Remnant even this many people to die in the first place? And… why did Salem keep this record?

Salem had stopped, and with that, Emerald was left just to gape in mute horror at what she could scarcely comprehend.

"Does it frighten you?"

A question she could only answer by demonstration, far too terrified to do more than stare.

"Good. Cinder chose wisely." And then she continued walking, further into the room. Emerald had no choice but to follow, helplessly, now with the added fear of being left alone in this mass graveyard. Everywhere she looked, there were names—names and names and names of those she was sure had died opposing their faction.

As they walked, Salem resumed speaking. "To Tyrian, this room is a temple, a proclamation of my glory. To Arthur, it is merely data, a sterile record of what has come to pass. Hazel denies it exists, even as I show him. Cinder, of all my chosen, Cinder alone realizes the truth of what this place is."

There was a silence, though one with a clear meaning—Salem wished for her to speak. She stammered out what she prayed were the right words. "W-what, what is that t-truth?"

"That I am a monster."

She wasn't sure what to answer to that. Or what that even meant, in either her words or her tone. She sounded… remorseful? That wasn't the right word for it. Nothing about Salem suggested anything like sorrow or regret. Her tone was resolute, absolute, unchangeable. It was a statement of fact. Above all else, it was terrifying.

Silence, she realized, would only endanger her. Watts lectured, Tyrian raved, Hazel was silent—but Salem expected her to talk. She had to say _something._ "What… what do you mean?"

The Queen of the Grimm smiled at that, though it was a gesture that gave her no sense of relief. "With every village that burns, every champion who falls, every lost soul claimed by the darkness—I do what I can to note their passing. And for every one my servants can note, I certainly must miss a dozen more. My reach," she drawled, "is limited. It is a reminder of the cost of my reign. I have built my castle, my throne, on top of a bedrock of lives ended."

"But… why?" Why _do _this? Emerald knew the past could only hurt you and had to be discarded as quickly as possible. Think not of the man whose throat you slit when you were a child, never let the blood you've shed catch up with you, spend no time thinking of how many children must have died in the fall of Beacon. All that lies down there is pain and _guilt_, the guilt that makes you weak, slow, hesitant—and that hesitation is _death_.

But Queen Salem built her castle on those memories.

Those horrible red eyes, like glittering flames in those sunken black pits, were fixed on her. Emerald realized too late what she had said—her previous questions were born out of ignorance, a request for explanation. But she had now asked _why_. She had questioned Salem. Her heart plunged in fear as the human-shaped monstrosity before her seemed to pull her soul apart with those horrid red eyes!

"Why?" Her voice, like ice cracking, echoed across the cavern they were entombed in. "Because I am a monster. Because I was not always a monster. _Because I have been made this way._"

Emerald shrank back, almost feeling the heat of Salem's igniting rage radiating from her. "I offended the Gods. I defied their will and was sentenced this punishment. They cursed me with immortality. Cursed me with power over the Grimm. Cursed me with a mockery of my beloved, bearing his name, his memories, his kindness, his-" she stopped herself, but then her voice curdled in fury, "but it is not _him._ They mock me with his existence, his endless existence, a cruel interpretation of my wish. But that is _my _sentence. Cruel, but earned. And yet they did not cease in their curses. They cursed this world," now her voice took on a hellish growl, "with _me_."

This was a nightmare. Cowering beneath the Grimm Queen lost in her mad ravings, she- she would wake up! She would wake up at Beacon, and Mercury would make fun of her for being frightened! None of this was happening, none of this was real! She just had to wake up!

But she couldn't.

"I am the Scourge of this world. But a Scourge of the Gods! They created me. They empowered me. They released me upon the world. Every name here, every life I have ended, I take as my crime. _But they hold the blame too!_ They could have killed me. They could have devised a thousand tortures commensurate to my sins. But nothing, _nothing_ I have ever done could ever justify this!"

Emerald whimpered in fear, but the Queen of the Grimm had no notice of her anymore. She was raging against the gods, cursing the universe for her own crimes. She was mad, truly mad. Insane. Whatever monstrous fusion of human and Grimm matter she was made out of was not something that the human psyche could survive. Or perhaps it was the immortality; to live this long inevitably exhausted one's sanity. Or perhaps it was building a monument to her endless crimes and then practically _living in it!_ She'd snapped, long ago, and Emerald and Cinder and Mercury and all the rest of them… they served this madness.

Salem's voice echoed in the hall and across Emerald's mind. She threw her arms open and the torches _surged_, illuminating the names upon names around her in hellish flames. "If _I_ must learn the truth of death," she shrieked, "then _they_ must too!"

Her voice now dropped to a hateful mutter, the voice of the quiet, surging fury that surely underlied all of her plans. "The Gods must reckon with what they have done! When I have gathered the relics, I shall bring them back to judge the world—and I will judge _them!_ For all their power, all their vaunted greatness, I hold _the truth_, here, in this place, the truth of _what they are_ and _what they have done!_"

Even in her fear-addled brain, Emerald felt a small, inescapable pit of dread form. Bring the gods back to judge the world? That was her goal? Even if these were just the delusional rantings of a lunatic, once she had the relics, she would have the power to end the world _herself._ And if she was right... Everything… everything they had done, all the people they'd killed, and all it was for was to help a madwoman _end the world_? For _spite?_ Could she continue on this path? Could she allow this?

But as soon as that voice formed in her mind, it was snuffed out. What was she to do against an immortal Sorcerer-Queen? She was a street thief with a handful of tricks; she had nothing on a real fighter, much less the monsters in her life. She couldn't even fight Cinder, who, she realized, must also have known this room, must also have heard this madness. Without Cinder, what else did she have? Mercury? He wouldn't risk himself for anyone, much less when the odds were so hopelessly stacked against them. Could she throw herself at the mercy of those Beacon kids? They'd tear her apart for sure—Blondie seemed committed to avenging that girl they'd killed at any cost. How could you tell them that all this killing had been for _nothing?_ She was left…

She was left standing in the catacombs, in a temple of death, with the mad Queen, on a quest to end the world. There was no hope left. No delaying the inevitable. This… creature wasn't human. She was something deathless, endless, the force of entropy itself bound up in a woman's form. To oppose her was folly, to hope was folly. She was doomed, and the world was doomed alongside her. All that was left was to accept it.

The Queen stared down at her. "Do you understand now, the _truth_ of this place?"

She looked back into those eyes, their bottomless, pitiless depths containing her answer. "I do," she said. She understood. She understood what even Salem did not. There was no truth. No meaning. All rage, all purpose, all thoughts of "justice"—there was nothing more than the idle waiting before the end of the world.

And they were simply the ones to witness it coming.


End file.
